


What I Need to Know (is if You Love Me)

by clarkesbellmy



Series: tumblr prompts [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drunken Confessions, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-16
Updated: 2015-04-16
Packaged: 2018-03-23 05:31:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3756250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clarkesbellmy/pseuds/clarkesbellmy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?” She asked carefully.</p>
<p>His forehead scrunched in confusion. “I’m not in your bed I-” his sentence cut off when he looked down at her light blue sheets.</p>
<p>“This isn’t my bed,” he stated simply.</p>
<p>“No.”</p>
<p>“Fuck.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	What I Need to Know (is if You Love Me)

Clarke hummed softly to herself as she unlocked the door to the apartment she shared with Octavia and dropped her keys on the table by the door. All the lights were off -which to most people wouldn’t mean anything- so that meant her roommate wasn’t home yet.

Octavia had explained one night after far too much tequila that she always kept at least one light on at all times because when she was younger her mother used to lock her in the closet. The light had never bothered Clarke anyways, but after that she made more of an effort to do small things like keep the bathroom light on overnight and always make sure there were extra light bulbs in the hall closet.

Shrugging her coat off and tossing it carelessly on the back of the couch (she was exhausted, okay?) she toed her shoes off and shuffled towards her bedroom, flicking the hall light on outside Octavia’s room as she passed it.

Now, Clarke had done this dance many times. Late night studying in the library, drag self home, wander into apartment, fall asleep in seconds, repeat. Never once in her year and a half of doing so had this routine been interrupted...and certainly never like this.

Clarke stifled a scream when she opened her door and the light flooded in from the hallway, illuminating a figure lying in her bed. She realized quickly enough (before any serious damage had been done. Clarke had a mean left hook…) that it was not in fact, a crazed stranger. It was Octavia’s crazed brother. Okay, maybe he wasn’t _crazed_ but Clarke was seriously starting to question that at this point. _What the fuck was he doing?_

She approached him slowly and tapped his shoulder.

He grunted.

“...Bellamy!” She whispered sharply.

Nothing.

“Bellamy!” She snapped.

Clarke would have laughed when he nearly fell out of her bed if not for the startling realization that he was naked under her sheets.

Bellamy glared at her through sleep-blurred eyes. “What the fuck are you doing?” He mumbled.

She raised her eyebrows. _Was he serious?_

“Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?” She asked carefully.

His forehead scrunched in confusion. “I’m not in your bed I-” his sentence cut off when he looked down at her light blue sheets.

“This isn’t my bed,” he stated simply.

“No.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Bellamy replied, running a hand over his face.

Clarke determined that she probably wasn’t going to be sleeping any time soon, so she turned on her bedside lamp (ignoring Bellamy’s groan of protest) and sat at the foot of her bed. She tried to ignore how her sheets pooled at his waist when he sat up fully. She tried _really hard_ , honest.

“So, would you care to explain what the hell happened here?” Clarke asked.

She heard him mumble something along the lines of _‘not particularly, no’_ but then he composed himself and looked at her.

“It was Miller’s birthday, we got fucking hammered.”

_Ah…_

“I thought-god, I was sure this was my place…” he let his head fall against his chest.

Bellamy lived one floor above them, and had insisted on having a key to their place in case of emergencies, she supposed it was an easy enough mistake to make when you were drunk out of your mind.

Clarke sighed. “It’s fine…”

"Shit, Princess I'm sorry, I'll get out of-"

"No!" She said in a panic and placed her hands firmly on his chest, pushing him back down. He had started to get out of bed and was in the process of lifting her sheets before her little outburst.

"You're not wearing any clothes," she said awkwardly.

Bellamy looked down in confusion before shaking his head. "Where exactly are my clothes?"

Clarke huffed exasperatedly. "How the hell would I know?"

"Right, sorry...um..."

Clarke glanced at the ceiling, was she going to do this? Yes, yes she was.

"Bellamy, why don't you just stay here tonight? We'll get you sorted tomorrow."

He tried to raise an eyebrow, but since he was still drunk it kind of looked like he was trying not to burp.

"What, you gonna join me?"

Clarke flushed. "I'll sleep in Octavia's room, she's never out this late so she probably stayed with Lincoln."

"I wouldn't mind, you know?"

He said it very quietly and it took Clarke a second to register what he'd said. It took her another second to register what he'd meant.

"Bellamy...you're really drunk right now..."

He nodded. The thing about Bellamy was that he was a very compliant drunk, so he was easy to handle. _Thank god_ , she thought.

"Yeah...yeah, I am..."

She helped him lay back down and was quietly leaving her room when she heard him murmur something.

"What was that?" She whispered.

And very faintly, through the heavy haze of sleep and alcohol, she heard him reply, "Love...you...Clarke..."

* * *

 

 

Clarke awoke the next morning (blissfully aware that it was finally Saturday) to her phone buzzing obnoxiously. Muttering under her breath, she grabbed her phone and glanced at the screen.

**9:51 AM**  
**Octavia Blake**  
**hey clarke sorry i didn't call last night! lincoln and i are going out today so i won't be home til later**  
**love you babe xx**

Clarke considered for a moment before responding.

**9:53 AM**  
**Your brother is here.**  
**(Seen at 9:53 AM)**

**9:53 AM**  
**Octavia Blake**  
**what????? why?? do you have something to tell me??? ;)**

Clarke would have choked if she had been drinking. There was no way Octavia knew anything about what Bellamy had said last night. She closed her eyes when she remembered, hopefully he had been so drunk he wouldn't have any idea what had happened last night.

**9:56 AM**  
**NO!**  
**(Seen at 9:56 AM)**

**9:57 AM**  
**Octavia Blake**  
**then why did it take you so long to respond? you better not be lying to me i'm questioning you when I get home**

Clarke sighed and turned off her phone. Walking out of Octavia's room, she glanced in her own to see Bellamy fast asleep. Good, she wasn't nearly awake enough to deal with that.

Half an hour and two cups of coffee later, Clarke was feeling much better. She was currently standing in front of the stove in her loose sleep pants and a tank top so small that if she had actually remembered she was wearing it Clarke would never let Bellamy see her in.

She was making a cheddar omelette with bacon (honestly it was mostly bacon) -she had on good authority that it was Bellamy's favourite hangover breakfast- when he shuffled into her kitchen. He had found his clothing and had dark wash jeans hanging low on his hips and his plaid button-up was hanging open. His bare feet made little slapping sounds on the tile before he fell into an empty chair. Clarke studiously ignored the small voice in her head that whispered _'he looks adorable with bed head'_ and planted a cup of coffee in front of him. (Black, with two sugars.)

He took a huge gulp -obviously uncaring of the scalding temperature- before he spoke.

"Hey, Princess."

Bellamy was trying to pull off his usually effortlessly charming one-sided grin but wasn't quite managing it, he looked like he was in pain. Clarke chuckled.

"Good to know you're still kicking, I was starting to worry."

"I didn't know you cared," he said playfully.

Now, Clarke thought. Now would be a good time to make a joke about how Octavia would kill her if he had died on her watch. Instead, she said softly, "Of course I care..."

Bellamy's eyebrows quirked at the tone in her voice.

"Clarke, I know you care. I didn't mean-"

"What did you mean last night?" She blurted out.

If she hadn't been so busy stifling her own blush, she would have noticed the faint pink hue of Bellamy's cheeks.

"I don't remember much of anything from last night," he said slowly.

Clarke turned around to face the stove and readied herself. She had brought this up, she wouldn't run away.

"You mentioned that uh," she coughed quickly. "That you wouldn't mind if I joined you in bed...naked."

She scrunched her eyes together because now that she thought about it, that last part really wasn't necessary.

It was disturbingly quiet behind her but she refused to turn around.

"Did I say anything else?" He asked awkwardly.

Clarke waited three seconds before she opened her eyes, spun around, stared furiously at the floor, and whispered, "You said you love me."

She said it so quickly that it ended up sounding like one big mess of a word but she was pretty sure he'd caught the gist of it.

She finally looked up when she heard his chair scraping the kitchen floor and watched him walk over to the doorway, bracing his hands on the frame and letting his head drop for a second before he turned around.

"I'm not...I'm not going to lie to you, Clarke, okay? But don't ask me if you don't want to hear it."

She swallowed. "Hear what?"

Sighing, Bellamy loosely ran a hand through his already messy hair and leaned against the wall, looking at her bare feet.

"You're...amazing, Clarke. And it drives me crazy because I don't think you know it. You're always helping people, me, Octavia, you're going to be a doctor for gods' sake. You're beautiful and funny and kind..."

When he didn't continue Clarke cleared her throat.

"I don't understand," she said weakly. Which...honestly was a lie.

Bellamy did the little thing he does when he's nervous, swipes his nose with his thumb, and gently placed a fist on the wall behind him.

"Clarke, _fuck_...I've been in love with you for almost two years."

"What-"

"Christmas, two years ago," he said as he started walking toward her. "When Octavia and Raven got delayed on their flight back from Barcelona, you came up to my apartment with this pathetic frozen turkey and a 50 cent can of cranberry sauce -which honestly, I'm pretty sure had expired in 1972- barged in and announced that there was no way you were letting me spend Christmas alone."

Clarke was confused. "I don't-"

"That's when I knew," he said. He was now only about four feet away from her. "That's when I knew you had wormed your way in and suddenly Octavia wasn't the only other person who mattered. I mean god, Clarke, doesn't it seem odd to you that I haven't been on a date in over a year?"

It did seem odd. And now that she thought about it, she remembered mentioning the same thing to Octavia while the other girl had just nodded and smiled knowingly. The realization that Octavia had known for probably almost as long as Bellamy made Clarke think.

Lately, Octavia had been doing lots of things, just the three of them. She had always told Clarke her dates were assholes, and constantly left whenever Bellamy was at their place. Clarke had just been blind. She looked up at him when he spoke again, closer still.

"I can tell that I've freaked you out and I'm sorry but you asked and I-"

He cut off when Clarke slapped him lightly on the arm saying, "Shut up, Bellamy."

"I...what-"

She slapped him again harder. "I need to think."

Once, Clarke had hated Bellamy, but over the years she had grown to understand him. She knew she cared for him, certainly even loved him in the same way she did Octavia, but was she _in love_ with him? She had never even considered the possibility, never allowed herself to wonder because he had always just been...Bellamy. When she really thought about it though, her feelings for him were much different than her feelings for Octavia. Sometimes when he walked in the room her breath caught for a moment, she had to constantly catch herself from openly staring at him, his smell was the first thing she thought of when someone said the word 'home', and if she was being honest, yeah maybe she had had a few...dreams.

Clarke didn't know if she was in love with Bellamy Blake, but she knew she loved him, and she knew he made her happy, and that was enough. So before she could change her mind, she stood on her tiptoes and kissed him.

Bellamy was obviously in shock, but when he responded slowly, Clarke smiled. Her arms were wrapped around his neck and her fingers were curled into his hair. She hummed against his mouth when he wrapped his arms around her but he was so tall and her toes hurt so she stumbled back and broke the kiss.

Bellamy looked confused and elated all at once, like Christmas had come but it was July.

"You're too tall," she said teasingly. "This is never going to work."

He laughed then and swiftly picked her up, setting her on the counter. "You're not getting away that easily, Princess."

Sitting on the counter, she was still shorter than him -but just barely- so she reached up to kiss him again, letting her hands explore his chest under his open shirt.

That's when the fire alarm went off.

_"Are you fucking kidding me?"_ Bellamy mumbled against her lips. Clarke laughed before hopping off the counter and grabbing his hand, dragging him to the first floor and out the door.

It was only April, so Clarke got cold pretty fast. Bellamy had offered her his shirt but she had outright refused and even buttoned it up on him herself. Ten minutes later, when her neighbour Lexa offered her a sweater Bellamy snaked his arm around her waist. Clarke spun around in his grip.

"Wait a minute. Are you jealous?"

He wouldn't look at her and Clarke giggled, reaching up to plant a chaste kiss on his cheek.

"Don't be."

20 minutes later the fire department cleared the building as safe and mentioned something about someone burning an omelette on the fifth floor. Clarke laughed when Bellamy flicked her head before affectionately leaning his head on her shoulder.

**  
** "You're going to be the death of me, Clarke Griffin."

**Author's Note:**

> this was a tumblr prompt for the lines "is there a reason you're naked in my bed?" and "wait a minute. are you jealous?"  
> I've decided to start a collection of tumblr prompts on here but I'll only be posting ones that are 1k+ words so if you want to read all of them there's a link to my blog in my bio :)


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